


Bravery, and How Not to Have it

by pinkzombierobot



Category: Super Mario & Related Fandoms, Super Mario Bros.
Genre: Gen, Humor, breakfast burritos, friendship?, warning: some scenes might be scary for diaper-wetting babies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-18
Updated: 2014-08-18
Packaged: 2018-02-13 15:15:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,157
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2155311
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pinkzombierobot/pseuds/pinkzombierobot
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Luigi learns how to be brave from arch-nemesis Waluigi, who took time out of his busy schedule to help Luigi with his little cowardice problem. How thoughtful! But not everything goes according to plan as unforeseen obstacles test the mettle of both teacher and student during the final "bravery lesson."</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. It's all fun and games until you lose an arm.

“No, no! You're doing it all wrong!” Waluigi crossed his arms, rolling his eyes and smirking at Luigi as though he was talking to an idiot. “You can't just scurry around the thing, you gotta face it head on. Don't let the chain chomp know you're a diaper-wetting baby!”

“But Waluigi, that thing can eat me!” Luigi bit at the tips of his gloves, eyes never leaving the gnashing maw of the giant metal animal. There were no words, at least in Luigi's vocabulary, to express the depth of his regret for taking “bravery lessons” from Waluigi. _Waluigi_ , of all people. And no matter what he tried, he couldn't back out. Each time Luigi stammered out an excuse or attempted to sneak off, Waluigi would somehow convince him to stay and face whatever insane obstacle he threw at him. The only escape available to him now was to simply survive. Technically, dying was also an option, but that really wasn't an alternative Luigi liked to consider. Ever.

The sheer stupidity of his decision stared back at him in the form of the furious chain chomp. It strained against the chain that kept it tethered to the pole, the thin metal links stretched almost past their capacity.

Sighing theatrically, Waluigi put an arm on Luigi's trembling shoulder. “That's the attitude that keeps you in your brother's shadow. If you ever want to outshine Mario, you gotta get over your fear of getting eaten.” He shoved Luigi forward. “Now, show that chain chomp who's boss!”

Luigi stumbled and barely avoided falling face-first into the chain chomp's hungry jaws. He let out a shrill shriek as the monster's teeth slammed shut not two inches from his nose. He backed up a few good paces, holding his hands up in surrender. 

“N-n-nice chompy. Nice ball of teeth and uh, hatred.” The chain chomp growled and barked, throwing itself at Luigi as close as the creaking chain allowed. 

“Good, good! Now you gotta get past it! Run!” Waluigi cheered, standing a safe distance away. His shouts fell on deaf ears; no amount of Waluigi's encouragement could force Luigi closer to what was barely more than teeth on a leash. After a solid second of being frozen in terror, Luigi heard the screech of a chain link being pulled past its limit. The small metal ring fell to the grass with a deceptively soft sound, an insignificant _plop_ disproportionate to the size of its new role in the scheme of Luigi's life. 

The chain chomp, despite its bulk, seemed to move in slow motion. It lunged with the single-minded need to guard the small territory around its pole. The hot breath engulfing Luigi got the message to Luigi's legs faster than his thawing brain could, and the tips of his boots grazed the chain chomp's head as he leapt up and over the pole. He didn't quite remember landing, but it seemed only seconds later that he found himself huddled at the top of a tree with the chain chomp barking angrily at the base of the trunk. 

The chain chomp was determined to catch the trespasser. Hours passed while it barked, bit the tree, and vainly tried jumping to the top. When the sky started threatening night, the chain chomp had worn itself out and left to guard its pole. Though it failed in catching its quarry, it could sleep satisfied that, in the morning, it would be able to expand its territory with its new-found freedom. At least until his owner fixed the chain. 

Luigi nearly cried with relief when the chain chomp left. Though he was hungry, tired, and his entire body was sore from sitting in the tree for hours on end, he was hesitant to climb down. What if it came back? Luigi warily watched the pole where the chain chomp now slept. He lowered himself through the top branches as quietly as he could, and he cringed after each crunch of the twigs under his boots. Halfway down, he saw movement on the grass and scurried back to the top. The branches below him shook and creaked. Someone or something was coming for him, and he trembled. His foot slipped off the branch, and a large hand grabbed it and jerked downward. He fell like a rock to the grass, howling all the way.

“Shut up!” a voice hissed in his ear. “You're going to wake the chain chomp and we'll _both_ be stuck up there.” It was Waluigi. He sneered at Luigi, who lay gasping in the grass. Waluigi's mustache twitched as though he was trying not to laugh.

“You did good, Luigi. Er, kinda. It was embarrassing when you were screaming and crying for mommy, but, uh, hey! You lived! We should celebrate when we're done, your treat.” Waluigi didn't offer his hand, so Luigi pulled himself to his feet. His entire body was stiff, and one of his legs tingled annoyingly. He stomped it and kicked at the tree trunk, but succeeded only in stubbing his toe. 

“Come on, loser! Er, I mean Luigi,” Waluigi said, grabbing his arm and dragging him from the tree. “We still have another lesson to do.” Luigi blanched. 

“Um, you know what? I, uh, think that's it for today. M-maybe tomorrow would be better?” Luigi scrambled to keep his stride while Waluigi had his arm in an iron grip. Luigi took three steps for every swing of Waluigi's gangly legs, so when Waluigi didn't release his hold, Luigi stopped trying to get his half numb legs to cooperate and just himself be dragged along behind him.

“If you can pass this last lesson, you'll be a bonafide, er, brave person,” said Waluigi, grinning evilly over his shoulder. “It's not even that hard, now that you have all this _training_ under your belt. All you gotta do is--" 

Somewhere in Waluigi's baggy overalls, a crooning voice sang, “ _Go on, take the money and run_.” Luigi was promptly dropped to the ground, and Waluigi pulled his phone out of his pocket, face slightly pink. He answered and held it up to his ear.

“Wario? Uh, yeah. I am kinda busy. It's none of your-- _Now_? But--” Waluigi sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. Luigi held his breath, hoping against hope that he would have to leave. “ _Okay_. Fine. I'll be right there.” Waluigi stuck the phone back into his pocket and knelt over Luigi.

“Eh. I gotta go. Wario needs me to help him with something.” There was an edge of bitterness to his voice, but Luigi couldn't bring himself to care at the moment. He leapt up, nearly poking out his eye on Waluigi's chin.

“That's great!” Luigi said, clapping his hands together. Waluigi's eyes narrowed, and he amended: “I-I mean, that's too bad. So much for the last lesson and everything. Guess I'll have to learn on my own.”

“Don't worry so much, Luigi,” Waluigi drawled, a sadistic smile that curdled Luigi's blood spreading over his face. “We'll continue this tomorrow. See you 'round!”

“S-s-see you around,” Luigi stammered at Waluigi's retreating back. Tomorrow may be the last day he would spend on earth. When he got home, he was going to make himself as much spaghetti as he can eat and a ricotta pie for dessert, and savor every last bite.

 

xxx

 

Luigi woke from his sleep by the sound of tapping. He stretched, blearily looking for the source of the sound. It was darker in his room than he thought right. The window curtains, which were too thin to block out the morning sun, usually would be glowing mauve. From his bed, he reached out and pulled the curtains aside. His heart leap into his throat and he let out a strangled gasp when he saw Waluigi peering down at him, hand raised to tap again on the glass.

“Wakey wakey, sleeping beauty. We got work to do,” Waluigi said. 

Luigi rubbed his eyes, and looked back at the window. Yep, still there. 

“What are you waiting for?!” snapped Waluigi. “Get ready. I'll wait here.” Luigi got out of bed and hurried to the bathroom, quickly brushing his hair and haphazardly slinging on his overalls. He put some extra supplies in his pockets before returning to his bedroom. Waluigi was still waiting by the window. Luigi sighed and pushed it open.

“Can't I eat breakfast first?” Luigi asked.

“Sure,” replied Waluigi. Without warning, he reached through the window and pulled Luigi right out of his house. He tumbled to the grass, narrowly missing delicate line of blue pansies that had taken Luigi months of care and love to create.

He dusted off his pants and glared at Waluigi. “Hey! I thought you said I could eat first!”

“I did,” Waluigi knelt to grab a small, greasy bag that he'd set beneath the window sill. Luigi hoped the filthy bag hadn't contaminated the flower bed. “Breakfast burritos. Eat up.” He handed Luigi the bag, and he took it, peering into it dubiously.

Despite the stains on the bag, the burritos didn't seem particularly greasy. He pulled one out. It was warm and smelled heavenly.

“Er, thank you,” Luigi said, taking a bite. It was filled with soft potatoes, melted cheddar cheese, and scrambled eggs. A slight spiciness indicated the presence of salsa. Luigi noticed Waluigi watching him closely, almost expectantly. He swallowed. “This is...good. Like, _really_ good. Where'd you get them?”

“I made them myself,” said Waluigi, turning away and waving his hand casually. “We're wasting time. Let's go already.”

“Uh, okay,” sighed Luigi. He pulled the window down as far as he could from the outside and started following Waluigi. He didn't ask where they were going as he ate. The burrito created a temporary amnesia for the day's plan by distracting him with its eggy, cheesy goodness.

“Are you going to eat the other one?” he asked as he finished his off. Waluigi gave him on odd look, and Luigi couldn't tell if it was confusion or surprise.

“I ate at my place,” he said stiffly. Luigi eyed the remaining burrito.

“So...can I have the other one?”

“No. I want it to rot in the bag.” Waluigi frowned, and it took Luigi a few seconds to realize he was joking. At least, he was mostly sure that he was joking. He decided to play it safe.

“Really?” he asked. Waluigi rolled his eyes.

“Of course not! Why would I go through all the trouble of making it if I didn't want you to eat it! Geez Luigi. I think you need some smartness training, too. Or at least how to recognize a joke.” Waluigi shoved Luigi's shoulder, mouth twitching into a thin smile. But as quickly as it had appeared, it was gone, and Waluigi went back to glaring angrily ahead. To Luigi, it felt like a huge leap forward. Could it possibly be that he might end up being friends with Waluigi, his self-proclaimed “rival?” The thought lightened Luigi's heart, and the silence between them as they walked felt more companionable and less oppressive.

The trees they were passing were becoming steadily more gnarled. Luigi was beginning to feel the first tendrils of fear curling into his stomach that not even the heaviness of the burritos could disguise.

“W-where are we going?” he asked, wary of the unsettling way the branches seemed to reach towards him.

“You'll see,” was the reply.

 

xxx

 

Deeper and deeper they walked, until all of the trees had transformed into menacing hunchbacks, bony arms stretching over the barely visible path. Luigi's knees knocked together, from a mixture of fear and the uncharacteristic cold. But mostly from fear.

“We're here,” Waluigi said at last. They had entered a small clearing where the trees had parted enough for the placement of a small, dilapidated house. It squatted at the center like an ancient pagan god amidst its forest worshippers, whose many hands and fingers grazed the rotten walls in primitive reverence.

“You're kidding, right? Tell me you're kidding. I'm not going to step foot in there!” Luigi couldn't tear his eyes from the malevolent structure. There was no possible way it had ever once been someone's home, where a person could feel safe and secure. This architectural abomination could only have been created by some demon intending to mock goodness and the concept of happiness in general. Luigi intended to tell Waluigi this, but one of the shutters flapped and he could only manage a small squeak.

“Why would I be kidding?” Waluigi said, raising an eyebrow. “You had to know the final test would be worse than the rest, or else what's the point of it even being the final test?”

“Yeah, but... This is too much. I mean, I swam through the river full of cheep cheeps, I hand-fed a piranha plant and almost lost my whole arm. I...I'm still trying to forget what happened with the bob-omb... _And_ to top it all off, I almost got eaten by a chain chomp! Isn't that enough?” Luigi's voice cracked, and he turned away from the cabin.

"I...I'm sorry Waluigi. I can't go in there.” Luigi could feel Waluigi's black eyes burning holes through his cap. He pulled it down lower over his eyes to avoid Waluigi's gaze. He expected Waluigi to yell at him or call him a coward, and cringed in expectation. Instead, Waluigi sighed and laid a hand on his shoulder, making Luigi look up in shock.

“It's okay Luigi. You don't have to go in there.”

Luigi's jaw dropped. “R-really?”

“Really. I mean, you'll probably look back at this and feel bad about yourself. To come so close to conquering all of your worst fears, just to chicken out at the last second. It's going to hurt, but hey, not everyone can be as brave as Mario, or as popular and liked.” Waluigi let go of Luigi's shoulder, and took a few steps back, suddenly covering his face with his hands.

“Wh-what's the matter?” asked Luigi, glancing over his shoulder at the cabin.

“I just remembered,” said Waluigi through his fingers, “I went and told Mario and Wario what we were doing. Heh, they're kiiiinda expecting you to be able to do this.”

Luigi felt his stomach drop down into his knees. He didn't know Waluigi had told anybody, much less Mario. His mouth went dry, and he couldn't say anything.

“Sorry Luigi.” Waluigi frowned at him. “If it's too embarrassing to tell them you couldn't do it, well, I'll back you up if you want to, you know, lie to their faces.”

 Luigi nodded slowly, but when he met Waluigi's gaze, his face crumpled.

“I-I'll do it.” His lip trembled, and his voice was barely a whisper. Waluigi's eyes widened, and he smiled somberly.

“That'a boy, Luigi. I know you can do it. Everybody's counting on you.” They turned to face the cabin, and Luigi was shaking so hard that Waluigi could hear his teeth chattering. “All you need to do is go into the house and look for a large chest. Legend says it should be black, but with bits of red on it. _Paint._ ” Waluigi hastily added when Luigi shot him a look of pure terror.

Waluigi started walking towards the house, his arm gripping Luigi's to make sure he didn't bolt. “Open the chest and grab anything that looks valuable—I mean, you know, whatever's inside.” When they reached the door, Waluigi gave Luigi's head a pat.

“Good luck.”

Luigi turned around, fists clenching the front of his overalls. “W-W-W-W-Waluigi, i-if something h-happens, could you c-c-call Mario?”

“Why would I do that? I'm going to be right out here. Now go!” Waluigi pulled open the door, which lost several chunks as it scraped against the ruins of the porch. The darkness seemed to spill out of the new opening, making the ground darker than it had been moments before.

“IchangemymindIdon'twanttogoinsidethereIdon'twantto-” Luigi began to babble, voice in such a high pitch he could have passed for a woman. Waluigi blocked him from leaving, his fingers digging into his shoulders.

“There's no changing your mind now. Go in there and get that treasure! You'll be fine.” With that, Waluigi gave him a sharp shove, and Luigi went flying through the door, which was slammed behind him.

“I'll be waiting right out here,” Waluigi shouted. Luigi didn't reply, but there was a thin sound that may or may not have been a whimper.

 

xxx

 

It took every ounce of strength Waluigi could muster, but he stayed silent until he had moved back to the cover of the trees. Then he laughed. He laughed until his sides hurt and tears were streaming down his face.

“I can't believe he did it!” Waluigi rasped. “He did _everything_ I told him to! Everything! What. A. Loser!” He leaned against a tree, trying to catch his breath but unable to curb the laughter as he thought of Luigi's face as he fell backwards through the door. When he finally settled down, he kept watch by the tree, grinning maniacally. Every so often he heard a scream from the cabin, accompanied by Luigi's signature “OH-WOH-WOH-WOH-WOH!” It always earned a cackle from Waluigi. But soon the sounds inside the house were swallowed up, and the forest fell into a fitful sleep as night ascended, leaving Waluigi cold and alone.

After an hour and a half passed without so much as a footstep, the humor had worn off. He wondered if something bad might have happened to Luigi. Sure, Waluigi put him through a lot of “dangerous” situations over the last two days, but he'd always been right there watching. And they were never truly dangerous to begin with.

As unpleasant as cheep cheeps were, they never really did more than splash, and Luigi was a good enough swimmer. At least, good enough to not get drowned by a cheep cheep. The piranha plant was from Waluigi's personal garden and, as he knew from experience, it always let go once it realized it had bitten something with clothing. It hated the taste of polyester and wasn't particularly tolerant of cotton, either. The chain chomp belonged to a friend of Wario's, and was more bark than bite (though it would occasionally chomp the fingers of anybody attempting to take its food). There wasn't much he could say in defense of the bob-omb, except he hadn't expected it to take such a _liking_ to the green-clad coward. Waluigi shuddered involuntarily.

Waluigi inched towards the cabin. Not a single sound or movement suggested that Luigi was still inside, or was ever there to begin with. He told himself that Luigi snuck out the back or maybe even escaped through a secret tunnel or pipe, but the knot of guilt forming in his stomach disagreed. He hated Luigi, anyone could vouch for that, but he certainly didn't want the loser _dead_. If anything happened to Luigi, no mile-high fortress with twenty dungeons or ultimate super-weapon of death would protect him from the wrath of Mario. But more than that, Waluigi did not have enough resentment or malice to want to be responsible for the death of anybody, not even Luigi.

“Luigi? You still in there?” Waluigi's voice was rough. All the laughter left his throat sore. “Luigi?” There was no reply. The few shutters still clinging to the glass-less windowsill swayed gently as an icy breeze stirred through the house. He peered cautiously through the window, unable to discern even the vaguest shape suggesting furniture or Luigi's stout form. “L-Luigi?”

The knot in his stomach twisted. He knew what he had to do, but his body didn't move. He glared into the darkness, willing Luigi to appear. Five minutes passed and that didn't happen. Waluigi considered his options. If he ran now, maybe Mario would never know it was him. Hopefully, Luigi never said anything to Mario about going to the woods with Waluigi. His absence would be suspicious, and Mario would probably come after him anyway. If he ditched the cabin and pretended like nothing happened, Mario would learn the truth eventually. Heck, he could bribe Wario into telling him easily enough.

No matter what angle Waluigi tried, every decision that did not involve going into the house ended with him at the mercy of Mario. There was no escape from that. But all the same, going into the decrepit old cabin would be _terrifying_. It was so dark an owl would bump into everything, and with the disrepair and damage to the floors and walls, it was a veritable death trap. Waluigi put his face in his hands. He hadn't even considered the possible dangers until he was faced with the prospect of entering it himself.

He tried to calm down. If he was stuck in there, Wario would hesitate only to complain about Waluigi not being able to take care of himself before diving right in. No ghosts, ghouls, or any other form of hell-raising monstrosity would get in the way of his dragging Waluigi out by the ear and yelling at him for getting trapped in the first place. Wario wasn't afraid of anything, especially not as long as it was guarding a pot of gold or something of Wario's.

Waluigi lifted his head up. A small piece of glass lay on the windowsill, and Waluigi picked it up, angling it so he could see his reflection. He was pale and wide-eyed, fear as clear on his face as it had been on Luigi's. He had to fix this. Waluigi forced himself to sneer, trying to channel Wario's boundless self confidence. He took a deep breath and faced the door.

“It's Waluigi time,” he whispered to himself. He gripped the handle and pulled sharply. The rusty doorknob popped right out of the door in a shower of moldy splinters. Waluigi stared at the object in his hand with shock, and burst into histerical laughter.

“Here we go!” he yelled, and kicked right through the door, leaving a lanky Waluigi-shaped hole behind him. It was pitch black, and not even the smallest particle of light was brave enough to follow him inside. He was met with the dank odor of mold and mildew, and he coughed through his laughter. Why in the world didn't he think to bring a flashlight? 

“Luigi?!” His voice was muted by the dampness. He tread carefully, sticking one foot out to check for holes or give in the wood before dedicating his weight to movement. He tried not to think about the moisture creeping into his gloves as he passed his hands over the walls.

There were no sounds in the house except for his calls of “Luigi!” His heart pounded against his sternum, as though trying to break free. Every step he took, he anticipated falling through the floorboards or being attacked by an unknown entity. What said entity might be, his otherwise bereft imagination spared him no small detail. By the time he reached the far wall, he was shaking harder than Luigi when he'd pushed him in. 

“Luigi?” He tried to remember the last place he'd heard Luigi scream. Somewhere near the east side of the house? Waluigi started blindly left, the darkness smothering all sense of direction. His hand brushed against a ridge in the wall, and he followed it with his hand until he felt an oblong metal handle. He gently turned the handle and pushed forward.

“Please tell me you're in here,” grumbled Waluigi, stepping inside. He smacked his head and lights flashed in his vision. He let out a few choice expletives and grabbed up at the thing he'd hit his head on. As far as his inquiring fingers could tell, it was a long plank of wood, possibly a shelf.

Great. He'd walked right into a closet. He felt around for anything useful and got his fingers tangled in a cobweb. A shrill shriek that made Peach sound butch escaped his mouth, and he flew backwards out of the closet, momentarily forgetting to be careful about where he stepped. His foot came level with the floor and kept going, and when he realized he was falling, it was too late.

He crashed to the ground a story below, his fall broken only by his back when it collided with the ground. Pieces of floorboard were scattered around him, and small splinters continued raining down on him in the aftermath. He groaned and pushed himself into a sitting position. Every part of him was sore, and there was no square inch of skin that was not scraped. He stretched and wiggled his legs and arms to make sure they weren't broken. They hurt, yes, but not with the unmistakable pain of a fractured bone.

“Wh-who's there?!” called a terrified voice somewhere far to Waluigi's right. Waluigi shakily pulled himself to his feet.

“Luigi? Is that you?” He waved his arms in front of him, hoping to touch something solid. He inched forward, keeping his arms out, heading towards the voice.

“Yes! I'm here!” Luigi's voice was getting closer, but it had a muffled quality that indicated that he was behind a wall. “Y-you need to hurry! I'm s-s-so scared.”

Waluigi's hands hit wall. It crumbled under his fingers, and Waluigi felt dirt fill his nostrils, making him cough. “Don't be such a pansy,” Waluigi growled, clenching his fists to keep his arms from shaking. He tried to will the tremble of fear from his voice. “Is there a door on that side?”

“I-I-I don't know. There's a l-ladder on the c-ceiling—oh m-m-mama mia! He's coming back! W-W-Waluigi!”

Waluigi was frozen. _There was someone else inside the cabin?_ Gooseflesh rose along his arms and down his neck, and every creak and groan of the house signaled an immediate threat. His legs wouldn't move. It was stupid of him to have come. He was going to die, and for what? For _Luigi_?! A long list of every stupid mistake he'd made flashed through his mind, each invariably leading him right to where he stood. No more sounds issued from the room behind the wall.

The silence smothered Waluigi more than the darkness, and it urged him to let it all out, to break through the suffocating blanket with the scream building rapidly in his chest. He shook with the effort of containing it, and he began to feel light headed. He couldn't breathe. Taking in a breath would ignite the scream, and that would be the last thing he ever did. His face began to tingle from lack of oxygen, and his head would surely burst if he held it in a second longer.

He opened his mouth—but not sound would come. He couldn't breathe, _he couldn't breathe!_ A single, comforting image appeared in his mind's eye the second before he collapsed to the floor: Melvin, his largest and oldest piranha plant, eating the spider that had terrorized Waluigi by hiding in his garden.

He wished he had it with him.

 

 

 


	2. Shh! It gets serious.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Continuation of previous chapter. No breaks.

Waluigi had no idea how long he'd been out when he woke up on the ground, as the darkness was just as unrelenting as before. He was surprised that he was still alive.

“Luigi?” he called out. No answer. Waluigi got up and touched the dirt wall. He was going to have to find a door if he ever wanted to escape. A full circle of the room revealed no doors, though he had discovered many tables and shelves of things that smelled particularly foul when they shattered onto the floor. After each mishap he cringed, fully expecting to be discovered and attacked, but nothing ever appeared. After the second blind scan of the room, Waluigi became bolder. He moved jars and tables, looking for any possible “secret” opening. Nothing.

“Luigi?” Waluigi called, having made his way to the back wall. “I'm coming for you, okay? Just, warn me if you see your boyfriend, okay?” He smiled at his joke, but Luigi's lack of response renewed his terror. He had snagged a long cane-like object that he'd found near one of the tables and dug it into the wall near the floor. He wasn't about to test his luck with tearing down too much of the wall; it would probably bring the whole house down on top of him.

Halfway through the wall, his fear of getting caught began to wane. He was sweaty, tired, and covered in dirt. The cane had given up and shattered into splinters, leaving him to dig with his hands. If whatever attacked Luigi tried to attack him, he didn't think he would be able to do more than wheeze at it. Finally, his hand passed through the final layer of dirt. Light filtered through the small hole, and Waluigi shoved his head through, suddenly desperate to see again.

The light came from a small dying candle near the center of the room. He couldn't see the ceiling from such a low angle, but a frayed rope ladder hung down to the floor nearby. Waluigi pulled back, carefully widening the hole and letting as little dirt spill out into the other room as possible. When he was finished, he looked in again and listened. There didn't seem to be anyone in the room at all. No Luigi and no mystery creep. Steeling himself, Waluigi crawled through.

The room was small, and filled with books. The candle sat on top of some precariously stacked books in the center of the room. A fire hazard if he ever saw one. He lifted it carefully and held it out in front of him. A small shape was huddled in the corner of the room, atop what he hoped was not a pile of bones. If it wasn't for the green cap on the floor only inches away, Waluigi would have dived screaming right back through the hole.

“L-Luigi?” he whispered, unwilling to move any closer. It didn't reply, so he swallowed and tried again. “Luigi? It's me, Waluigi. Are you...are you okay?” The figure stirred and groaned, and Waluigi maneuvered through the books and knelt down to grab his shoulder, trying to ignore the very human skull not three feet away.

Luigi looked blearily up at him. Once he saw who it was, he gasped and sat up. “Waluigi! Thank goodness!” He all but threw himself at Waluigi, who nearly dropped the candle.

“WAH! Don't _hug_ me you moron!” He pushed Luigi away and stood back up, annoyed enough to temporarily forget how afraid he was. “What happened?”

“I fell through the trap door.” Luigi gestured to the rope ladder. Sure enough, there were jagged edges around what was once a square door on the ceiling. It still had hinges, but now it only secured the broken frame.

Waluigi glared at Luigi like he was an idiot. “Why didn't you climb back up?”

“Oh yeah. I guess I just decided I liked it in here.” Luigi pursed his lips angrily. “I'm really not as stupid as you think I am, Waluigi. When I fell down, my leg got tangled in the ladder and I think I broke it.” Luigi gingerly rolled up the leg of his overalls. His ankle was an angry red and was swollen to twice its normal size. Waluigi almost asked him if he could walk on it, but the question died on his lips. Of course he couldn't or he wouldn't still be here.

“Okay. Um...” Waluigi shot a nervous but pointed glance at the rope ladder. “What about the...guest of honor?” He crossed his arms, hoping Luigi hadn't noticed him shaking.

“Oh, that.” Luigi grinned sheepishly. “I was imagining things. I thought I heard footsteps on the floor above me. I freaked out a little, but there's nothing to worry about.” Waluigi sighed with relief, but something about Luigi's expression unnerved him. Luigi's eyes were bright and confident, his smile easy. Though he winced when he moved his leg, he seemed perfectly okay, not scared at all.

“Can we leave now?” Luigi asked, smile still in place. “I hate it here.” Waluigi nodded, and helped Luigi up, keeping him balanced so he wouldn't put any weight on his broken ankle.

“Can you climb?” Waluigi asked. Luigi shook his head. “Then I guess I'll have to carry you.” Waluigi knelt so Luigi could climb onto his back. His arms wrapped tightly around Waluigi's neck. The climb was much more difficult than Waluigi had anticipated. Luigi was a lead backpack, throwing him off balance and pulling him down after each rung. Halfway up the ladder, Waluigi was sure his arms were going to pop out of their sockets.

When at last he pulled himself out of the hole, he collapsed to the ground, his spine reduced to jelly. They'd had to leave the candle behind, and the darkness pressed down on them like a welcome blanket. All Waluigi wanted to do was sleep.

Luigi rolled off and sat up. “I thought I'd _never_ get out of there. It feels like millenia since I'd been up top. He patted Waluigi's shoulder, rousing him from his half-sleep.

“You, my friend, have been a blessing. I thank you from the bottom of my heart. But now, I must take my leave. I have a whole new life to live, and I do not wish to waste the first few months of my freedom with a broken leg. So, if you don't mind,” Luigi rolled Waluigi onto his back, chuckling to himself as he did so, “I would like to borrow _your_ body.”

Light began to emanate from Luigi's chest. Waluigi watched in horror as it spread through Luigi's body, illuminating the room. Luigi's eyes turned white. He spread his arms wide, and a small figure began to emerge from his mouth.

Strength from reserves Waluigi didn't know he had zapped into him like lightening. He shoved Luigi off of him and crawled backwards, screaming like a five year old girl. He scanned the room and saw two doors and a boarded-up window. The doors could take him anywhere—a closet, another room, possibly to an exit—but a window would only ever lead outside. Waluigi shot towards it, but wasn't fast enough to avoid Luigi's hand, which grabbed Waluigi's foot and sent him sprawling onto the rotten wood.

“Not so fast,” snarled Luigi. His voice was too deep and too raspy to be coming from Luigi's mouth. Waluigi turned and kicked out, pulling himself forward out of Luigi's grip. His scream was silenced when his eyes met Luigi's. No, not _Luigi's_. The eyes of the face that erupted from Luigi's mouth.

“Going somewhere?” it said. Light from Luigi's arm seeped onto Waluigi's leg and tingled unpleasantly. It felt like his leg was being dipped into ice water. Waluigi tried to recommence screaming, but he reached a level of fear that no shriek could dispel. His throat was clamped shut, and he could barely pull in a breath. Tears were streaming down Luigi's face, his blue eyes freed from the ghost's control.

And that was as far as Waluigi's ability to cope extended. There were certain things in life that Waluigi simply refused to take any part of. For example, if “Chance Time” was a game Mario planned for one of his parties, Waluigi found a way to back out of the invitation. Similarly, if Wario decided to spend a day at the Wonky Circus, or anything else involving clowns, Waluigi decided he was sick with the flu. Going anywhere near Luigi's allegedly-no-longer-haunted mansion? Check please. Now, the ghosts have come to haunt his actual body. And to that, Waluigi had to say no thank you. Absolutely not. _Nope._

Now at the peak of fear, that blissful resignation of hopefulness that spawned a mindless instinct for survival, Waluigi threw himself at Luigi, surprising himself and the ghost. It wasted no time in switching bodies, and Waluigi felt ice encase his entire being. The spectre did not, however, find enough time to move Waluigi's arm to the edge of the hole to prevent them falling back in. They fell down head-first, but crashed only into the wall of the basement. Luigi had managed to avoid the hole, and his hand was still clamped over Waluigi's foot.

“I-I-I-I-I got you. W-Waluigi...uh, S-sir Henry...I c-can't hold on. You n-n-need to switch, or you'll d-d-die again.” Luigi shook from the exertion. Waluigi moaned, but looked up at him. His eyes were not yet glowing white—Sir Henry hadn't settled just yet.

“Luigi, I am truly sorry.” Sir Henry's voice seemed to hold a sigh. His ghostly visage was creased with sorrow. “I cannot spend another night down there, alone. I promise, I will take good care of your body.” The light spread down from Waluigi's chest, and Sir Henry emerged from Waluigi's mouth. The ghost floated up Waluigi's body and touched the hand connecting Luigi and Waluigi.

“I'm sorry too,” whispered Luigi. The hand Luigi had been using to grip the floor boards dipped into his pocket and whipped out small hand-vac. Sir Henry did not register that his body was being sucked down until it was halfway in, and his last few seconds in the house that was his prison, he looked at Luigi with betrayal and infinite sadness.

“You won't be alone, I promise,” said Luigi. Then Sir Henry was gone. Or rather, trapped in a tiny, one-ghost poltergust.

Luigi threw the poltergust aside and grabbed Waluigi's leg with both hands.

“What...in the world...just happened?” Waluigi groaned, trying not to wriggle in Luigi's grasp.

“I-I'm gonna drop you. Prepare yourself,” Luigi huffed before his strength gave out. There was a loud _thump_ below, and a loud groan, but Waluigi appeared at the top of the hole a few moments later.

“Thanks for the warning,” he mumbled. “And I mean it. I grabbed the rope and flipped over. I don't need a head injury on top of everything else.” His arm hung limply at his side, and from the way Waluigi winced, Luigi knew he must have dislocated it. Waluigi sunk to the ground, and they sat on the floor together, to tired and sore to move. Light from outside starting to filter through the cracks in the walls and the boarded up window.

“What happened, anyway? How'd you know his name? How'd you get _rid_ of him?” Waluigi's eyes narrowed, examining Luigi suspiciously.

“Don't worry, I'm me,” said Luigi. “I...I brought a poltergust. Professor E. Gadd made me a portable one, just in case I saw a ghost again.” He reached out and grabbed the poltergust, putting it in his pocket with a sad half-smile. “Hopefully, he can put him to rest.”

“What do you care?” snapped Waluigi. “He tried to kill us!”

“Not kill us!” Luigi frowned, looking over at the hole. “He was just lonely and miserable. He died in there, and no one even knew.” When Waluigi raised an eyebrow, Luigi continued, “When he was possessing me, he told me how he died. He told me a lot. I...I feel bad for him. All he wanted was a friend.”

“Boo hoo, I'm so sad,” Waluigi said, rolling his eyes. Luigi slammed his fist on the floor, making Waluigi jump.

“What's wrong with you?!” Luigi's fists were clenched, but his shoulders shook and his eyes were shiny with tears. “I...” his voice softened, and he looked away. “I don't think that was a very nice thing to say.”

“If you haven't noticed, I am _not_ very nice,” sneered Waluigi. “But then again, you did everything I told you to do, no matter how idiotic. So maybe you're just too stupid.”

Luigi's face reddened. “I'm not stupid. I j-just wanted to prove you wrong. I wanted to prove I _could_ do it, and I did do it. I even saved you.”

“Well yippee for you. You did it. My butt is totally saved, now. And look, we're _almost_ in one piece! You were just so brave, you managed to get us nearly killed by a crazy ghost and a half-rotten house. Thank you Luigi.” Waluigi almost crossed his arms, but he whipped his good arm back down to his side with a whimper of pain.

“Really? You're blaming _me_ for this? After everything was your idea? Really?”

“Yes, and you know why?” Waluigi glared at Luigi, who met his gaze with a glare of his own for a second or two before his eyes flickered down to the ground. “You're too...trusting. How could you have agreed to anything I said? Me, your nemesis. I mean, how dumb could you be! If you had a few more brain cells, we wouldn't be here.”

Luigi stared at his knees, blinking back tears. “I am _not_ dumb! I know that you hate me, Waluigi. I guess I just...ignored it. I wanted to prove you wrong. I...wish I hadn't. No matter what I do, everybody will still call me a coward.”

Something about Luigi's words stung Waluigi. He shrugged his good shoulder, as though trying to displace the wayward guilt. It had no place with him, especially not here and now. He did hate Luigi, so why did he feel like a pile of garbage?

Luigi sighed. “But, even more than that, I...I just wanted some company. Mario's been so busy lately, always running back and forth to the castle. I hardly get to see him anymore. And I don't have many other—I mean, m-my other friends live in the castle. And since I have to stay at the house when Mario's gone...”

Luigi's hid his face again, and his shoulders began to shake. “Just...don't say mean things about Sir Henry. It...hurts.”

Waluigi crossed his arms, eye twitching in irritation. “Don't try to act like _you_ know how he feels! Everyone loves you!” he snapped, bitterness lacing his voice. “You're Mario's ' _adorable little brother_.' Tch! You don't even have to try for people to love you, even though you're a stinking scaredy-cat. You win a race? 'Good for Luigi, we knew he could do it!' You lose a race? 'Poor baby, we still believe in him!'” The angry, false sweetness of Waluigi's impression of the masses diverted Luigi from his own tears, and he looked up at Waluigi in confusion.

“W-what are you talking about?”

Fire flashed in the dark pits of Waluigi's eyes, and he stood up, stomping and gesturing violently with his good arm.

“Are you joking?! Tell me you're joking! Every single person in the mushroom kingdom thinks you are the best thing since sliced bread! _Oh Luigi's so cute! Look at Mario's precious little brother!_ All you have to do is show up, and the world loves you!” Waluigi stopped for a second to shoot daggers at Luigi with his eyes, and his fists clenched.

“But _me_? I train day and night for the competitions. I work my butt off! And what do I get?” He paused, glaring so hard at Luigi he could swear his overalls stared smoking.

“N-nothing?” Luigi squeaked.

“NOTHING! No one cheers for _me_ to win! And when I do—when all my hard, back breaking work finally pays off—everyone hates me even more! Why didn't _Luigi_ win?!” Waluigi's chest heaved, and suddenly all of his fire burnt out. He pressed his back to the wall and slid down to the floor, face in his hands. His next words came out in barely more than a whisper. “You don't know how it feels. I'm going to die alone, just like...just like that ghost.”

Luigi crawled over to him, and gently placed a hand on Waluigi's shoulder. “I-I never knew you felt this way. I'm...really sorry.”

Waluigi shrugged him off. “I don't want your pity.” He looked up at Luigi, and sighed. “I...I should, er, be the one to say what...what you just said.” He paused and glared down at the floor. “This is all my fault. I'm a jerk. I mean, I'm not _sorry_ about being a jerk, but...uh...you know. I'm sorry we almost died. And...I'm sorry you got hurt.” The word sorry sounded painful for Waluigi to say, and he made a face like he was swallowing something bitter.

“Apology accepted, I guess,” said Luigi. “You're still a jerk, though.” Waluigi smiled slightly at that. The sun had risen enough for them to see the indistinct shapes of broken furniture around the room. “Let's leave.”

“Good idea,” said Waluigi. He stood up and helped Luigi to his feet, carefully slinging Luigi's arm over his good shoulder and keeping him steady as the picked their way to the door.

“Hey, was there really a box in here filled with treasure?” asked Luigi suddenly, looking around. “I mean, I don't want to spend another second in this horrible place, but is there?” Waluigi snickered.

“I don't know,” he said. “I mean, Wario told me that once, but I don't think he's ever been in here.” They were almost out of the house. Something fluttered above them and both men shrieked. It was Luigi who laughed and said, “It was only a little bat.” Waluigi was gripping the front of Luigi's overalls like his life depended on it, and let go with an embarrassed cough.

“Let's make a deal: we tell no one of this, ever. The chain chomp, the bob-omb, _this_...don't breath a word to anyone, not even Mario.”

Luigi began to nod, but frowned as a memory crossed his mind. “But didn't you already tell Mario and Wario about this? You said they were rooting for us or something?”

“I lied, okay? I'm a big evil jerk who lies. They don't know. And I want it to stay that way, alright? This whole thing is embarrassing as it is.”

“Alright, alright,” conceded Luigi. “I won't tell anyone. But what if they ask where I've been? Mario surely would have--”

“You tell him anything you want, just leave me out of it,” interrupted Waluigi. “Unless I'm the dashing hero,” he added. They walked together in silence. The sun felt good after the entire night and most of the morning spent in utter darkness. Thanks to their snail crawl, the walk took four times as long as it had coming the opposite direction.

To fill the awkward silence, Luigi started talking about E. Gadd and the poltergust, and how he would turn Sir Henry into a painting or other nonsense Waluigi only half-listened to. When they arrived in the village square, it was Luigi who piped up and reminded him that they both needed to see a doctor. Waluigi sleepily agreed. Waluigi fell asleep in the waiting room, and woke up in his cot at Wario's house, shoulder back in the socket. He must really have been exhausted.

Luigi, after waiting for Wario to drive the KO'd Waluigi back home, walked home in crutches, and found the house just as he left it. Mario still hadn't returned from the castle, and Luigi settled himself in as comfortably as he could. He would have to call E. Gadd to take Sir Henry the following day. Despite how tired he was, he slept only fitfully, nightmares about the house keeping him awake and shivering until the early hours of the morning. Just as he felt sleep inching back towards his brain, he heard a tap at his window.

Waluigi was looking down at him, holding a grease-stained bag. He set it down on the windowsill, and by the time Luigi had opened the window, Waluigi had taken off. Luigi took the bag and returned to his bed. Inside were three breakfast burritos and a note with certain words crossed out from Waluigi that said:

 

_I'm sorry for everything. I'd only meant to scare you and see how far you'd go before you chickened out. I never meant for you to break your leg or for a ghost to possess you, or really for anything bad to happen. I had everything under control, except the house. I didn't even know there was a ghost in there. Also, the bob-omb. I'm sorry about that, too. So...here is some food. You seemed to like them, and I don't know if Mario left you anything to eat._

_Your ~~friend~~ ~~acquaintance~~ RIVAL,_

_Waluigi_

~~_PS: You're not a coward. Maybe...You were kinda brave._ ~~

_ACTUAL PS (IGNORE ABOVE): You don't suck. Thanks for helping me not get dead._

 

Luigi smiled. He folded the note and set it on his nightstand next to the bag of burritos. He couldn't wait to eat them. He laid back down on his bed and was asleep immediately, dreaming that he hadn't fallen asleep and had carried the bag to the dining room to eat breakfast in his pajamas.

 

 

El Fin


End file.
